Turbulent first-impressions: The Arcosians meet the Saiyans
by DroukelPilot
Summary: Taking place after the Saiyans conquer the Tuffles and go on to explore the stars, two punch-clock Arcosian merchants meet a group of battle-hungry Saiyans.


This story assumes the following:

 **King Kai's earliest explanation of the Saiyans, Tuffles, and Arcosians is true and accurate.** The information regarding Planet Vegeta's Kame and the demise of the Saiyans is a lie fabricated by King Kai for Goku's benefit, so that he does not learn of Freiza and then desire to challenge him. This explanation takes place in episode 20 (US broadcast episode 14) titled "The Saiyan Legend Reborn! Goku's Roots".

 **The Arcosians is not the name of Freiza's race, but rather a different people all together.** During that episode, robed Arcosians speak to a group of Saiyans, but they sport gas masks. Freiza is capable of surviving in harsh conditions such as the vacuum of space, so it can be supposed that other members of his race can as well, and therefor have no need for gas masks. Also, his race prides itself in being the strongest in the universe, but this is due to the strength of their rulers, and not an indication of the power of the average individual. For the sake of clarity, Freiza's race will bear the name of the family of mutants that rules them, the Frost Demons.

 **The Arcosians are a technologically advanced, but weak race.** They're more technologically advanced than even the Tuffles, but they brokered a deal with the Saiyans to help conquer planets because they themselves are not strong enough to act as a military group.

Before the Frost Demon domination over the Planet Trade Organization, **the PTO was comprised of several races that bought, sold, and sterilized planets.**

 **The Arcosians meet the Saiyans before they encounter the Frost Demons.**

* * *

Long before an eleven-year old boy vanquished the perfect being and became the strongest fighter in the universe, before an elderly man discovered a tailed-baby in the wild, before the galaxy quivered in fright from the might of tyrant-kings, Arcos strived.

* * *

"Just over that dune, Chao. Stop the hovercraft," Imun's muffled voice commands over the sound of the desert draft. The older, 'wiser' merchant wants to make sure that whoever's beyond that ridge doesn't see our transport.

Before being wiped out, the westernmost trading party relayed a radio transmission to Forward Command. Command thinks negotiations between our guys and the natives broke down, someone said something stupid and then fighting broke out. It might have been a cultural faux-pas, but it was most likely the natives getting incensed from a bad deal. When you're trying to rip someone off, don't be so obvious about it. Make sure you leave enough for them to scrape by. I tried to enlighten Imun to this tactic, and he begrudgingly accepts my advice. Sometimes. And when he does, we got no problems. Now we have to get pulled away from our own deals to see what happened to these bozos.

After parking and dismounting, the gale persists intermittently, whipping my robe back into my face randomly. A minor annoyance, but at least this wind is helping stave off the oppressive heat. I'm sweating like a pig out here.

I know old Imun is suffering, but he tries to hide it. He puts his index finger up to his voicebox to indicate silence, then gets on his belly and starts slowly crawling up over the sand. Of course I'm going to stay quiet, did that even need to be said? I follow his lead, the sand flooding my senses with heat all up the front of my body. Slowly making my way up the dune, I wonder what I did to deserve being here with this guy. I stop just short of the crest, and Imun and I peek over to see the party's last known location.

What we see causes me to curse Command. Below us, eating Arcosian rations by an outpost centered around a small oasis, are three offworlders. There should be a single sentient race on this planet, and they're blue-skinned. The figures below are so far that I can't make out too much, but I can tell they aren't blue, and they're sporting long, cat-like tails. One of them's got a knife. The only activity from the post is coming from them... Ah. They're using members of the western trading party as chairs. That's probably it for them. Where are the natives...? Wait, I think one of the offworlders just froze up in the middle of eating.

I feel Imun's hand grip my arm and he slowly pulls me down back towards our side of the crest. He points down to our hovercraft and curls his three middle fingers toward his palm up to his mask. We need to call this up to Command, whatever happens now is up to them. As long as we aren't involved, that is. We're just an old guy and a kid, two tech-merchants. You want us to fight hostile aliens? In this heat? Not on your life, pal.

Before I slide back down, Imun pulls at my arm again. He repeats giving me the quiet signal. This guy... I got it the first time, I'll be quiet as a mouse. No mistakes yet, right? Frankly, Imun can be a little insulting at times. I guess belittling his junior partner is how he convinces himself that he's still worth a damn. No doubt he trash talks me to higher in his performance reports.

As if fate itself heard my thoughts, several large, looming figures cast their shadows over our prone bodies. We're fragged.

"What do we have here, Zuki?" a sadistic voice asks.

"Looks like two little weaklings baring gifts, Daiko" taunts a brash, feminine voice.

"Now we got three cars" added the last, slithery voice.

Not five seconds have passed since we backed off from the edge of the dune, what is this speed?

Old Imun shifts onto his back, his hands palms up. "I don't know what you want... But whatever it is, we could make a deal."

"Hey, what was that, Yacon? Did you hear what the little guy said?" The female, I guess Zuki, asks. It's probably too hard to understand the old man through his voice box and the random gusts of wind.

"We get to make a deal. I wonder if it's the kind of deal where we get all your stuff, and you guys get pulverized." Okay, I guess they heard him just fine. Mr. Yacon, I don't like those terms.

There's one thing I know about these guys, and that's that they're all barefoot. That's all I can see from the ground. I chance looking up from their feet... As I raise my head toward the figures hovering over me, I notice their builds. They're all toned; sinewy muscles telling of their strength. They have the look of barbaric warriors, dressed in brown, loose cloth, with furry belts... No, those aren't belts, those are their tails.

"Friends, friends..." By the tone and clarity of his voice, I can hear the old man try to grapple the situation back into control. Outwardly portraying friendliness, he's switches into negotiation-mode. I've witnessed it so many times that I recognize it as slimy, but maybe it'll work. Yeah, maybe he can distract them enough for us to get some distance. We'll be alright.

"We have food."

"Now we have food."

"We have water."

"Now that water is ours."

Imun, please, I'm trying to believe in you right now.

"How about this boy, Chao? He's good at... um..." Damnit, Imun.

"Unless you turn out to be useful, you got no say in the matter." Suddenly the one called Daiko ceased with the taunting, his words making my sweat run cold. These guys already took out a bunch of our men, and they ambushed us in a flash, catching us in a compromising position. I feel like a worm, lying on my belly, while this relic tries to sell me off to hostile aliens. And it's so hot; in this blasted sun and under my robes, I think I could fall asleep now.

How did it come to this...? I woke up this morning, knowing full-well that trade on this lousy desert planet would be a bust. Forward Command has deemed this planet low in resources and unsuitable for trade. The natives survive on the barest of necessities and technologically, they're stone-age. We figured that any day now we'd be recalled while Forward Command decided on our next target planet, and now I'm going to get robbed and ditched in the desert. If only we had an armed force that was worth a damn. The only real protection the merchant guild has comes from our wiles. Well, we do have those new to-

Ow! Someone kicked me!

"Hey, wake up! Did he actually fall asleep?" the one called Zuki guffaws.

"Get up, it's play time. Don't worry, this'll be over quickly." I don't like that tone of voice. Or the idea of play time.

"Try to give us a little more fun than your friends back there," and with that, the two males plop down onto the sand, leaving only the female standing. I slowly rise to my feet, wary of getting punted, but the kick doesn't come. I can't believe they're letting me up. Looking at this Zuki female, I realize just how big these guys really are. I only come up to her shoulder, and she's more built than I am. Her clothes leave a lot of skin exposed, and her hair is so wild, so red. If it wasn't for the dangerously smug grin on her face and the knife she's brandishing, I might fall for her. She's casually tossing the blade up and down between her fingers, as if she was waiting for something. You're waiting on us?

"How long this time, Yacon?"

"Pfft, it's not even worth it to time these guys," says his friend. Imun finally stands up, his body language portraying confusion and wariness.

Wait, am I reading this situation right? Our three-on-two situation just reversed into a two-on-one in our favor?

No. If we actually give the girl trouble, the other two will just step in and wallop us. Not only that, they're really confident she's going to make quick work of us... Who are these guys? Why not just stomp us and rob us right away? Are they psychopaths?

Sporting an ever-present grin, the black-haired male, Yacon, speaks up. "Zuki, no hands."

She laughs. "No hands then." With that, she flicks her wrist, and the knife she was juggling whizzes through the air between Imun and I, burying itself to the hilt into the slant of the dune some distance away. Imen lets out a yelp, then positions himself behind me. Hey, don't put me between us! I try to back up some more, but Imun's grip on my shoulder keeps me in front of him. Does he want to use me as a shield?! He tries to reason with them one last time. "Let's calm down," he pleads in a frightened tone, but the barbarian female is not even listening. "Here I come," her stance lowers slightly, her head ducked.

Imun draws his ray gun from under his cloak, garbled yells escaping through his mask as he opens fire.

"Gah!" I yell, crouching down, ripping myself out of Imun's grip, clutching my head. Multiple lasers tear through my cloak, and I feel the air ionizing by my head. What are you aiming at, you idiot!? Then I feel something heavy and fast rush above me, then the sound of something heavy slamming into the sand behind me.

"No hands," the girl boasts above me. I see one of her bare feet planted in front of me, and I slowly turn my gaze upwards. Her muscular calf gives way to her bare thigh, seeming sculpted, yet soft. Her bare flesh keeps rising higher, up past the hem of her dress... I can see everything. White...? It's so round, and it looks so soft, digging into the plumpness... Her other leg is extended above me horizontally, her stance frozen. Wait, where's the old man?

I crane my head back to see Imun clutching his stomach on the ground, his ray gun flung far from him. He's down...

I turn my gaze back before she parks her foot on my face, my gas mask squishing into my face. An annoyed growl escapes me.

"He almost killed us both, I think you should be thanking me," Zuki says as she smushes my mask deeper into my face. "I even gave you a peek." She pushes off my face, and I fall backwards into the sand.

Why you... I'm going to wipe that smug look off your face...!


End file.
